Out of the cold
by Mystrothedefender
Summary: Barry finds one of his rogues without a home on a cold night.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi I've updated this a little.**

**I hope you enjoy it.**

**I know Flash&Piper aren't the most popular people but how can you say no to those pretty faces :3**

Hartley wiped his sleeves across his eyes, trying to stop the tracks of tears freezing to his face.

He held his hands out to the dust-bin fire, trying desperately to warm them, his teeth chattering madly. His very bones freezing despite the layers of clothes covering him.

He'd been stuck in this dreadful situation for almost two weeks, the snow simply wouldn't stop. He'd been forced out of his apartment when his landlord had realised who he was, he'd called the police, and Hartley had had to leave without his things, grabbing only the bare essentials.

He'd tried to get some money out, but they'd blocked his account, that bastard had told everyone who he was.

He'd called his 'friends' and they'd denied him, they knew everyone knew, and if he went with them, everyone would know about them too.

So he'd just walked, with no idea where to go, no idea how far.

Just walked.

The snow had started a day and a half ago, and he couldn't find his way back, not that 'back' was where he'd wanted to go, there was nothing there for him.

Nothing.

He was so cold.

He hardly noticed he was crying until the liquid had frozen to his face.

"Come on sweet thing…" one of the 2 other homeless standing round the bin said, "Don't cry… I've got a couple'a bucks spare, I'm sure there's some way you can persuade me to give 'em to you."

"Fuck you," Hartley growled, rubbing his hands together to try to keep them warm.

The 2nd homeless man chuckled, "Maybe we should invoke a tax for using our fire, wana stay warm? Gotta give us something."

With the last word Hartley turned away, he had no strength to fight, in the past few days he'd eaten next to nothing, he could feel his body eating what little fat he had on him. He walked quickly out from the shelter of the bridge, and into the swirling snow that filled the cold night.

He was so cold, so unbelievably hungry.

He stumbled down the white road, he had no where to go, but he kept walking, he had to.

He looked up at a street sign and smiled slightly, he knew where he was, he was about 2 hours from James's house, and James was in jail at the moment, he could break in, he'd have a bed to sleep in at least.

That was two hours away.

He didn't know if he could make it that far, he was too cold and too hungry.

He bit his lip, hard, anything to distract from the cold.

He stumbled forward, fighting the wind, pushing his tinted glasses close to his face, hoping they would act like goggles and protect him against the snow, the wind was whipping his hair into his face, the snow was so thick he could barley see.

He felt his legs beginning to buckle, a mix of cold, hunger, and the wind hitting him from all directions, threatening to knock him over.

He wasn't going to make it.

He couldn't take two hours of this.

He couldn't.

There was no way.

He needed some kind of food.

Something to strengthen him.

He retraced his steps: he had seen a bin, it had looked rather full.

It made his stomach turn simply thinking of doing it… but he had to, he had to eat something.

He didn't want them to find him dead in the snow, that was not how he would die.

He didn't want to die.

He could feel tears tracking down his face.

He pulled the lid off the bin and looked inside, pulling out empty fast food boxes, feeling his stomach growling at the mere thought of food, after days without.

…An empty box of chips, and empty bag of pop corn…

Half a burger, no bun, odd. Just the meat, with a string of almost frozen cheese stuck to the top.

He felt sick just looking at it, the snow quickly piling on the brown mush.

He screwed his face up, growling to himself.

Eating meat.

He couldn't.

He couldn't.

Oh shit…

He had to, his body needed it.

He'd die without it, he could feel the nip of it in him.

He took a deep breath, lifting the food to his mouth.

"Sir," a voice came from behind him. Hartley instantly dropped the food, jolting slightly in shock, he turned to look at the man standing behind him.

"Don't do that," the blonde haired man said, "Please?"

Hartley frowned.

What did this guy want…?

"What…?" Hartley managed to say through his shivers.

What did he want?

Money?

He may be homeless, but at the moment he certainly didn't look it; he was in his best green trench coat… though he'd had to smear dirt over it to stop those drunken morons trying to steal it, and he was wearing his warmest pair of boots, they looked, as James had said 'fancy'.

Sex then, maybe?

He… didn't look at his best; several days without any contact with water, no washing, no drinks.

His hair was mussed and greasy, he looked as he felt; like death…

"I… I live near here, if you're hungry I have food."

Sex, definitely sex.

Maybe the distraught and distressed energy Hartley was exuding turned the man on?

How depraved.

But… free food… and Hartley was more than capable of defending himself if he needed to.

Hartley swallowed hard, and walked towards the sleek looking man.

The man smiled, "…It's just a block away, can you walk that far?"

Hartley nodded, he held out his hand to shake that of the man. The man smiled, "I'm Barry, nice to meet you."

"H-" he stopped for a second, was it a god idea to tell this man his real name?

Everyone knew 'Hartley Rathaway' as 'The Pied Piper', but he didn't look like himself at the moment.

If this 'Barry' found out his name, then he might tell the police, Hartley would be in jail by morning.

He shuddered, he didn't want that.

"-Harry."

The man smirked, "Nice to meet you."

They ended their handshake and began their walk south.

"I hope you like rigatoni, it's all I have at the moment," the man shouted through the snow.

Hartley nodded, he was still keeping up the 'do you want food' charade, "As long as there's no meat in it then I'll agree."

The man chuckled gently, "No, no, just tomato and cheese tonight."

They walked in silence for the most part, too cold to talk, they concentrated on not falling as they walked.

Hartley tensed as they rounded the corner to an apartment building, suddenly remembering a story about a man who had talked a boy into his apartment by saying he had food, and then trying to kill him and put him with a mound of other homeless he had hidden under his floorboards.

…But Hartley could defend himself if he needed to.

The man put a key in the door and opened it, Hartley felt the warm glow of shelter wash over him as he entered the block, and immediately felt himself begin to sweat due to the mass temperature change.

Warmth, thank fuck.

The man smiled at the look of relief on Hartley's face, "Would you like a shower before you eat?" he asked as he unlocked the door to his apartment, ground floor, good, Hartley could escape easily.

Hartley nodded as he entered the warm apartment; old-ish style, smelled 'antique-y'.

"Uh," Barry looked around as he took his coat off, "Bathroom is that way," he nodded down a short hallway, "Make yourself at home."

Hartley nodded and walked towards the room.

Shit, he was going to be raped, he was sure.

Barry watched the long haired man walk down the hall, and sighed, he shook his head.

Poor Piper, and when he'd been so close to reforming.

He needed positive influence now.

More than anything.

Hartley knew he had to be quick; in, out, no more than 5 minutes.

Don't let your guard down, don't you dare, not again.

He tore off his clothes and hopped in the shower.

He turned on the water and soaped himself quickly, rinsing the soap off almost as soon as it foamed.

Same with his hair; shampooed twice and conditioned, as quick as possible.

Repeating swear words in his head, something was going to happen to him, he'd take what he could while he could, but the second things started to go south he was out.

He'd been crossed too many times to trust this man, Hartley was sure no one in their right mind would.

He climbed from the shower and grabbed a towel, he could hear his heart in his throat, nothing had gone wrong so far… and he could smell the scent of food, making his empty stomach ache.

He dried himself and re-dressed, getting into dirty clothes felt awful, but he had no alternative.

Swallowing hard, he walked into the kitchen, it wasn't hard to find, and saw the man sitting at the table, two plates of food laying there.

Hartley felt water pool in his mouth, god he was so hungry.

He sat at the old oak table, forgetting any pleasantries, and began to eat his food.

Barry watched as he ate, "How long's it been since you ate?"

Hartley shrugged, swallowing his mouthful, "A few days, you lose track easily once you're hungry."

The man frowned, "How long have you been out there?"

Hartley shrugged again, he'd lost track of how long, and honestly he was too focused on 1. Getting food, and 2. Not being raped, to notice how many days or nights had passed.

Honestly even now he was still focused on getting food into him and not being raped by this odd man.

"Why did you invite me in?" Hartley asked, deciding to be upfront.

Barry frowned, "Because it's damn freezing outside and you were eating out'a the trash. I couldn't leave you out there like that when I've got room here."

Hartley took another bite of food, there was more to this story, he was sure, but he didn't want to put the, most likely sensitive, subject, and end up being thrown out.

Barry ate a forkful of pasta, and chewed his lip gently, "My… uh… My wife died a few months ago. And I just can't get over not having another person in the house," he chuckled gently, "I think you've got to be the third person I've..."

Suddenly he squinted, looking a little confused, "I'm sorry, I just realised how that sounded."

Hartley shook his head, it was nice to have some kind of explanation, "It's ok, I understand."

Barry smiled, and Hartley smiled back at him across the table, and they resumed eating.

**Thankyou for reading, please leave a review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**...I forgot to upload this here...**

**SO You get two chapters at once.**

After a few minutes of awkward silence Barry lifted his eyes from his half empty plate, "…Uh… Sorry, I'm… I'm not talking… I guess I'm not really used to having such quiet guests."

Hartley smiled, playing with his food, "I'm just happy to have a well cooked, hot meal."

Barry nodded, smiling gently, "I should expect so…. You know… I know a man in a similar situation to yours."

Hartley lifted an eyebrow, "Oh?" What did this man know about him, so much so that he could readily judge him.

Or did he simply mean 'another homeless man'?

Barry nodded, "I mean… it's obvious that you've not been out there _that _long, less than 2 weeks. D-Did you lose your job or something?"

Hartley lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, "Of sorts. I don't really see why, uh, why that would make any difference to anything."

Hartley could feel himself tensing up, did he know? This guy, did he know who he was?

No, he couldn't.

"Well, I know someone who was in a similar situation, he went to this place and they gave him work, now he has his house back and everything."

Oh god, was this guy a pimp or something? Had Hartley misjudged him that badly?

"W-What?" Hartley said gently, feeling himself tense.

"He works with me now. I'm in the police by the way, a forensic scientist."

Hartley tensed moreso, that was worse, that meant the guy _did_ know who he was. Oh shit, he knew, he was going to turn him in, that's why he'd brought him here.

He swiftly got to his feet, suddenly unsure of himself, of what he was doing here, of why he had agreed, of everything.

Barry's face contorted with confusion, "W…Where are you going? Are you ok?"

Hartley nodded, swallowing hard.

"I-I'm sorry," Hartley started, "I don't know why I agreed to come here… I hope I didn't put you out of your way or anything I-"

He turned his head back to bid the man goodbye, to see that he had moved from his place across the table, and was now less than two steps from him.

God that man was fast, Hartley hadn't even heard him.

"-R-Really should…"

"Don't," Barry said softly, extending his hand to grab Hartley by the wrist, "Please."

He hated the idea that his partially reformed nemesis might be forced back into crime as a result of his homelessness. He was so close. He just needed an extra nudge.

Maybe if he realised that there were still good people in the world, people who he could count on in his darkest times, then he could be pushed over.

Hartley swallowed hard, his heart suddenly rising in his throat.

This man… he wasn't a rapist, or… bad, in any nature.

Or at least, he didn't seem it, he didn't feel it.

His grip was soft, Hartley could easily break it. It wasn't forcing him, simply encouraging, pleading almost.

Piper looked into Barry's eyes, they seemed so familiar. They had the same softness as the man's touch.

"You've not finished your food," the man continued, releasing his hand.

Hartley nodded awkwardly, and sat back at the table.

Barry sat and continued eating his food, looking up sporadically at Hartley, watching the man eat. He noticed a slight blush coming to the man's face, and let a small smile come to his face. "What's the matter?" he asked gently.

Hartley shrugged, "I just… don't get it."

Barry frowned, "What?"

Hartley sighed, he could still feel his heart in his throat and he didn't know why, "Why you're being so nice to me. I could be a thief or a murderer for all you know."

Barry scoffed, "Nah, I'd be able to tell if you were, you don't seem like the type."

Hartley suppressed his smile, had he really got so good at repressing himself that he exuded that which he was not…? "I suppose so," he said gently, trying to hide his smugness.

"You… I dunno, seem like someone I could trust," Barry continued, although it seemed it didn't really need to be said.

Hartley smiled, blushing a little more and eating the last scraps of food from his plate, leaving him relatively full.

He stared down at his plate, unsure of what to do now, Barry had almost finished, he could just wait for him to finish, but in the meantime he'd have to sit there awkwardly, watching the man eat his food.

Barry noticed, a small smile appearing on his face as he looked at Hartley's empty plate, "Uh, there's a dishwasher in the kitchen, it's the big black thing."

Hartley nodded thankfully and got to his feet, resting one hand on the back of his chair and picking up his empty plate with the other, flashing a small smile at Barry as he did. He turned quickly and walked into the kitchen; sleek modern with hints of classic décor.

It really was rather beautiful. Now that Hartley wasn't afraid of the other man, he felt freer, able to look around the place without fear.

He placed his plate in the dishwasher, and began to look around. His eyes fell on an ornament on the windowsill, it…

That was one of his flutes…

Mounted on a small wooden block.

He picked it up and held it in his hands, it was definitely one of his, it had his insignia on it.

He jolted slightly, almost dropping the flute, as he heard a voice behind him, "I found that, in a charity shop, a couple of months ago. It's gorgeous don't you think?"

Hartley swallowed his smile, "Yeah, it's… gorgeous," he held the thing in his hand, it was one of his older ones, he'd lost it years ago."

"It belonged to the Pied Piper, I believe. Sophisticated tech, I'm impressed," Barry said, smiling gently, he knew who he was talking to, and… he did admire Hartley's knack for technology, he'd simply never been able to say so.

Hartley smiled inwardly, and placed the flute back on its stand, it was nice to know that someone admired him, even a little. "Don't you think he might break in and steal it back?"

Barry smiled gently, "If he wanted it back he would'a taken it before now."

Hartley smiled, showing his teeth a little, that was true; he did love this flute, but it was old, one he would have hardly used anyway.

Barry leant over to fix the flute's place on the stand, accidently brushing against Hartley as he did so. Hartley felt himself flush at the contact, and swallowed gently.

"Do you want to come and watch TV with me or something…?" Barry asked softly, still smiling sweetly at the ginger haired man.

Hartley stood, unsure of what to say, he didn't usually watch TV, at all, but he didn't want to quash the hospitality that this man was showing him.

After a while he responded with a simple "Uh, yeah, sure."

Great, this would lead to several hours of complete boredom for Hartley while Barry sat and laughed senselessly at coloured pictures on a box.

But then, Barry seemed like an intelligent man, maybe he had some books in there, and Hartley could sneak a look at them while Barry dulled his mind.

The man led Hartley into the olden style living room, and Hartley looked around curiously, looking for books. There was a large bookcase in the corner, half filled with books and half filled with dvd's of classic films.

Barry seemed like a stand up guy, from what Hartley could tell of his belongings.

Though… he was quite sure that music box had belonged to Trickster, and Doctor Alchemy formerly owned that flask.

Was he a collector of villain's weapons?

Maybe he hated the Flash too.

…Maybe that's why he'd brought Hartley here.

Because he knew who Hartley was and wanted to 'collect' him or something. Or maybe he had a plan against Flash and needed Hartley to help him with it.

The latter was more likely.

Hartley wondered over to the shelf of books, browsing over it.

"B-Be careful," Barry said as Hartley ran his long finger over the spine of one of the books. "Some of those are first edition."

Hartley nodded, smiling gently; someone who was as fond of the classics as he was, "Of course."

Barry sat on the sofa and turned on the tv, "Go ahead and read if you like, it's just there's this thing about reforming criminals that I'm supposed to watch."

Hartley stilled slightly, his hand still hovering over the books. What if there was something about him on there? There usually was on programmes like that, asking if the villainous Piper could be changed.

They always assumed he would be the first to change, said the morals he showed would be easier to morph into something 'good-like' at least. "Why do you need to watch it…?"

Barry shrugged, "Coz the guys will pick on me if I don't. I get enough flack there without provoking it."

Hartley smiled, "Yeah? I used to get the same from my colleagues."

"Oh?"

Hartley didn't really know why he was explaining it, or if knowing it would make the other man freak out, but, he was who he was, and he wouldn't deny it to anyone anymore, "Being gay in my line of work… it isn't exactly normal."

Barry, much to Hartley's surprise, didn't seem at all startled by the revelation. "Homophobes? That must have sucked."

Hartley nodded, taking one of the books, it was one he had owned, and had been part way through reading. "Well, they weren't really homophobic, they just… picked on me for it. Made jokes and stuff."

"That must have been awful, at least I'm picked on for what I do, not who I am," Barry had an odd tone in his voice, not pity, something similar, like a mix of pity and care.

The man suddenly looked between Hartley and the chair opposite him, "Uh, take a seat."

Hartley smiled and nodded, taking a seat on the black leather chair.

Through out the course of the programme Hartley's eyes did lift from his book, a smirk forming on his lips as he saw a fuzzy picture and a detailed, inaccurate, description of himself come onto the TV.

Barry shook his head and flipped off the TV, "That's enough of that."

Hartley frowned, "Why?"

"Well," Barry said with a shrug, "Once Piper is mentioned on these programmes everything starts to fall to speculation." It was true; these programmes started as fact but quickly fell to 'what if's', Hartley always found it hilarious.

"It's half ten," Barry said, checking the dark wooden clock on the wall, "and we've got to be up at 6… Do you want me to show you to your room? You don't have to go to bed if you don't want to, I'll just ask that you keep the noise down."

Hartley nodded, getting to his feet as Barry did, and following the man down the short hall, stopping at a door. Barry pushed open the soft wood, letting Hartley enter the small room first.

Barr watched as Hartley looked around; the room was painted a gentle blue-green, a single bed, a pale-painted desk, and an entire wall of books.

There were so many.

Hartley smiled widely; these could keep him entertained for a few weeks.

"I know it's kinda small, but, I want you to feel comfortable here, until you're back on your feet. You can come and go as you please. Just, be civil, please."

Anyone else would never do this for someone like Piper, and Barry had been reluctant at first. But it wasn't as if this place had anything important in it anymore. Barry really did trust that Hartley wouldn't do anything to brash, not if he had no where else to go, not if he _knew_ he had no where else, no one else.

He wasn't stupid enough to throw away the opportunity that Barry was allowing him.

"I'm going to bed, I'll come in to wake you in the morning."

With that the blonde haired man left the room, Hartley listened to him walk away, then began to move about the room.

It was so nice here.

And he still couldn't figure out why the smartly-dressed man was being so pleasant to him. Any one else would have left him in the cold to die.

He looked at the rows of books, and picked one off the shelf, settling himself on the bed. In the warm, nice book, nice bed.

What had he done to deserve this?

**I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter is shorter than the last two, but the next bit doesn't fit here.**

Hartley hardly slept that night. He felt like he was being watched, the sensation of it making him uncomfortable and making his brain itch. He hadn't been able to find a camera or anything, but still he hadn't been able to sleep more than 3 hours.

He'd ended up browsing through the books, finding something called 'Backwards', a fiction story about the big crunch. He'd found that rather entertaining.

At 6 he heard the shower turn on in the room opposite his, and at approximately 5 minutes past 6 there was a knock on Hartley's door, and the voice of the house's other occupant called through the door, "Harry? It's time to get up. I'm making breakfast."

Piper smiled, pulling himself from the bed, he walked through the door once he was sure the blonde man had moved into the kitchen, and he made his way to the living-room.

The thought had crossed his mind, during the night, to simply clean this place of all its niceties and flee to wherever he could. But, he came to the conclusion that there would be no point. This man was being nice, letting him stay. He had nowhere to go, nowhere to keep any of the stuff.

And he liked this man. There was something so comforting about him.

As if he knew him already.

"Harry?" Barry called through the house, "What would you like?"

"Uh," Hartley hummed thoughtfully, "Just some cereal or something please, no meat."

"I know," Barry called back with a chuckle.

Hartley stretched himself out, looking at the TV; Barry had put the news on, telling of something that had happened in Gotham.

Barry walked into the room, holding two bowls of chocolate flavoured cereal, "Here we go…" he said gently, handing Hartley his bowl.

Hartley felt his stomach throb as he looked at the large amount of food, remembering again how little he'd eaten recently, "Thank you," he said with a smile, beginning to shovel food into his mouth, not even thinking to take a seat.

Barry smiled, "You can have more after too." He took his own seat and ate his food, looking up at the other man, watching him eat hungrily, trying not to laugh at the tiny moans of pleasure coming from him.

"Uh… We have half an hour before we have to leave. I have some clothes you can wear."

Hartley nodded, smiling gently.

"And I'll take you out to buy some that'll fit you properly after work. I only need to go in for a couple of hours."

"Oh, no, tha-that's no-"

Barry held up a hand to silence the ginger haired man, "I insist. I'm not rich but I have enough to buy you a couple of pairs of jeans and some t-shirts. You're... what…? 34'tall?"

Hartley nodded sheepishly, "Y-yeah I… I'll pay you back."

Barry shook his head again, "No need. I'll forget anyway."

Hartley nodded, watching as Barry finished his food, placing the bowl on the table and walking through the house.

Piper picked the bowl up, quickly darting into the kitchen and putting it in the sink. He walked back through the house, following the sounds of Barry's voice, "Moss? Moss seems like your colour."

Hartley felt something hit the back of his head, he turned, seeing a shirt laying at his feet.

"Put that on then…" Barry said gently, "I'll see if I can find you a pair of jeans that'll fit."

Hartley nodded, picking up the shirt, wondering if he should dart to his room to change into his shirt.

Barry answered the question for him, "Go on then, put your shirt on, I don't mind."

Barry smiled at the other man, then stopped, realising why the man may feel uncomfortable, "Oh," he felt a slight blush fall on his face, "Um, you can go in the other room if you'd like, I promise I won't peek."

Hartley frowned gently, looking down at the shirt. "This place we're going… they're… they're not going to do something to me are they? Put me in jail or something?"

Barry frowned, picking up a pair of jeans and walking to Hartley, handing him the item of clothing, "Why would they do that? You've done nothing wrong, Harry."

"Don't lie to me!" Hartley growled loudly, he could tell he was lying, there was something in his face.

Barry sighed, dropping his hands to his sides, "I'm not going to put you in jail. I want to help you. Prison will not help _you._ Getting you a job, helping you get on your feet, _that_ will help you."

Hartley nodded, looking down at the clothes in his hands. He believed him. There was something about him, something so appealing, calming.

"I'll go and change," Hartley mumbled, walking quickly to his own room, he stripped and pulled on the clothes.

They looked nice, but they didn't fit him.

This man, Barry, had an odd figure; a tiny waist and massive calves, large upper arms and thin wrists.

Much more… 'curvy' than Hartley was, the clothes reflected that, and hung off him at odd angles.

But still, they looked nice.

"Harry?" Barry called through the door, "Are you almost ready?"

Hartley nodded, though Barry couldn't see him, he looked around the room, "Uh, yeah, I need to brush my teeth though." He looked over the table, and saw a small bottle of body spray. He squirted some over himself, smiling inwardly at the fact that it wasn't a compressed bottle, and was therefore better for the environment.

"Oh Harry?" Barry sung, now in the living-room, Hartley smiled to himself, and walked out of his room.

"There you are," Barry said as Hartley walked in, "That took you forever… Or am I just fast?"

Hartley huffed, "Speed isn't everything…"

Barry smiled, knowing the sentence would annoy the man, not sure why he felt the need to say it.

Hartley paused, "Um, I need to brush my teeth," he said uncertainly, shifting slightly on his feet.

Barry nodded, "Yeah, I have a spare in the cupboard in the bathroom, consider it yours."

Hartley nodded, turning towards the bathroom. He frowned as he entered the room; did Barry expect him to use an old toothbrush? One that could have, possibly, been used once or twice to unclog hair from the drain?

He opened the cupboard, and smiled, seeing a toothbrush, still in its casing.

He pulled it from the plastic and cardboard and rinsed it, noticing that Barry had what he knew to be really good toothpaste. He'd been meaning to try it himself but it cost almost $10, and, well… food alone was expensive enough.

He frowned as he brushed his teeth; this stuff may be good, but it tasted like arse.

He emerged from the bathroom, chewing the weird taste on his tongue. He smiled, standing by the door and watching as Barry bustled about, collecting things for work; a few pens and a notebook.

He wondered what was written in it, what exactly the man did for work, what was so important that he didn't keep it at work, and instead brought it home with him.

He could tell from looking at it that it was important, and old, the pages were crinkled with time and showed gaps made by objects it no longer held, pieces or paper and newspaper clippings hanging from it.

Hartley felt a spark of interest come to him as he watched Barry pack the book into his work bag, taking more care with it than he did with his other things.

He forced a smile onto his face as Barry approached him, the man cocked his head towards the door, "You ready to go?"

Hartley nodded enthusiastically, and followed the man out of the door. He wasn't sure what it was, why, but this man interested him. He wanted to get to know him better, find out what he was hiding. There was something, he could tell, hidden in plain sight.

Hidden behind that dashing smile.

**I hope you liked it.**

**Please review 33**


End file.
